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Extremos 8 quàm vellem memorare labores ! Ad Trojam frustra pugnarunt mille carinæ, Quàm vellem sævi superata pericula ponti ! Nec nisi Achilleâ funduntur Pergama dextrâ. Cuị meritò'nunc jura dabis: quam flebile fatum Ergo, Boanda, tuis splendet Gulielmus in arvis, Tristesque illorum exequias, quos obruit æquor Magna Boanda, ipsi famâ haud cessura Mosellæ. Immeritos, canere; at jamjam sub pondere tanto | Ut major graditur bello, ut jam gaudia in igneis Deficio, heroemque sequor non passibus æquis. Scintillant oculis, et toto pectore fervent! Sed fesso memoranda dies, quâ regna Britaunům Quantum olli jubar affulget, quæ gratia frontis Debita, quâ sacros sceptri regalis honores
Purpurei metuenda, et non inamabilis horror!
Ainis purpureo latè devolvit in alveo :
Et torpet misto concretum sanguine Flumen.
Pergit atrox Heros; frustra olli tempora circum
Spicula mille canunt,luduntque in vertice flamme: KING WILLIAM FROM IRELAND, Prustra bastatæ acies obstant, firmæque phalanges;
Frustra acres Celtæ: furit Ille, atque impiger After the battle of the Boyne3.
hostes O Ingens Heros! O tot defuncte periclis!
Et fugat, et sternit, totoque agit agmina campo. Ergo iterum victor nostris aliaberis oris ?
Versus retro hostis trepidè fugit, inque paludes, Atque os belligerum, torvumque in prælia numen
Torpentesque lacus cæno, horrendosque recessus Exuis, et blanda componis regna quiete?
Dumorum; et cæci prodest injuria Cæli. Ergo iterum placidâ moderaris voce Senatum?
Attamen 0, non sic fausto movet alite bellum Oraque divinum spirant jam mitia lumen?
Schombergus; non sic nobis favet alea Martis. Non sic cum trepidos ageres violentus Hibernos;
Occidit heu! Schombergus iniqui crimine Cæli; Cum bello exultans fremeres, ensemque rotares
Non illum vernans circum sua tempora laurus Immani gyro, rubris bacchatus in arvis
Conservat, non arcet inevitabile fulmen. Invitus : (neque enim crudeles edere strages
At nunc ad Cælum fugit, et pede sidera calcat, Te juvat, aut animis Ditem satiare Tuorum.)
Spectat et Heroes, ipse et spectandus ab illis. Sic olim amplexus Semeles petiisse Tonantem
Hunc dicet veniens atas, serique nepotes, Fama est, terribilem nigranti fulmine et igni :
Et quicunque Anglum audierint rugire Leonem. Maluit hic caris accumbere mitior ulnis,
Cæpit enim rugire, et jainjam ad monia victor Inque snam invitum trahit inscia Nympha ruinam. Caletava fremit trux, Dunkirkumque reposcit. Tu tamen, ô tuties Wilhelmi assueta triumphis
Cresseas iterum lauros maynique tropæa Calliope, ô nunquam Heroum non grata labori,
Henrici repetit: media Lodoicus in aula Wilhelmi immensos iterum enumerare triumphos Jamdudum tremit, et Gulielmi ad nomina pallet. Incipe, et in notas iterum te at ollere laudes.
EDM. SMITH, Ædis Chr. Alumn. Ut requiem, fædæque ingloria tædia pacis Exosus, rursusque ardens in Martia castra, Sanguin'asque acies, fulgentesque ære catervas, In bellum ruit, atque iterum se misit in arina.
TO THE MEMORY OF
MR. JOHN PHILIPS.
TO A FRIEND.
The bard who spread her fame to distant shores; Dum pecus Ignatì invisum, fædique cuculli, Since pobler pens their mournful lays suspend, Et Monachi sanctè rotenso abdomine tardi
My honest zeal, if not my verse, commend, Vipercam inspirant animam, inficiuntque veneno. Forgive the poet, and approve the friend, Asu git tandem Schombergus, et emicat armis,
Your care had long his il eting life restrain'd, Qui ju a captivo excutiat servilia collo :
One table fed you, and one bed contain'd; Sed frustra: securo hostis munimine valli
for his dear sake long restless nights you bore, Aut latet, aut errat vagus, eluditque sequentem.
While rattling coughs bis heaving vessels tore, Angendis restat Gulielmi Celta triumphis;
Much was his pain, but your affliction more. Vindiciis semper Gulielmi fata reservant
Oh! had no suinmons from the noisy gown Et vincia eripere, et manibus divellere nodos.
Callid thec, unwilling, to the nauseous town, Sic frustra Atrides, frustra Telamonius heros,
Thy love had o'er the dull disease prevail'd,
Thy mirth had curd where ba med physic fail'd; 3 From the Academiæ Oxoniensis Gratulatio But since the will of Heaven his fate decreed, pro exoptato serenissimi Regis Guilielido ex Ili- To thy kind care my worthless lines succeed; bernia reditu. Oxoniæ, è Theatro Sheldoniano. Fruitless our hopes, though pious our essays, Anno Dom, 1690.
Yours to preserve a friend, and mine to praise.
Oh! might I paint him in Miltonian verse, Tyrannic rhyme, that cramps to equal chime With strains like those he sung on Glo'ster's | The gay, the soft, the florid, and sublime; herse;
Some say this chain the doubtful sense decides, But with the meaner tribe I'm forc'd to chime, Confines the fancy, and the judgement guides; And, wanting strenath to rise, descend to rhyme. l'm sure in needless bonds it pocts ties,
With other fire his glorious Blenheim shines, Procrustes like, the ax or wheel applies, And all the battle thunders in his lines;
'To lop the mangled sense, or stretch it into size: His nervous verse great Boileau's strength tran- At best a crutch, that lifts the weak along, scents,
Supports the feeble, but retards the strong; And France to Philips, as to Churchill, bends. And the chance thoughts, when govern’d by the Oh, various bard, you all our powers control,
close, You now disturb, and now divert the soul:
Oft rise to fustian, or descend to prose. Miltun and Butler in thy Muse combine,
Your judgement, Philips, rul'd with steady sway, Above the last thy manly beauties shine;
You usd no curbing rhyme, the Muse to stay, For as l’re seen, when rival wits contend,
To stop her fury, or direct her way. One gayly charge, one gravely wise defend, Thee on the wing thy uncheck'd vigour bore, This on quick turns and points in vain relies, To wanton freely, or securely soar. This with a look demure, and steady eyes,
So the stretch'd cord the shackle-dancer tries, With dry rebukes, or sneering praise, replies: As prone to fall, as impotent to rise; So thy grave lines extort a juster sinile,
When freed he moves, the sturdy cable bends, Reach Butler's fancy, but surpass his style; He mounts with pleasure, and secure descends; He speaks Scarron's low pbrase in humble strains, Now dropping seems to strike the distant ground, In thee the solemn air of great Cervantes reigns. Now high in air his quivering feet rebound,
What sound ng lines his abject themes express! Pail on, ye triflers, who to Will's repair
Rejects new phrases, and resumes the old :
Thus Chaucer lives in younger Spenser's strains, When she, with borrow'd pride, the buskin wears. In Maro's page reviving Ennius reigns;
Sowhen nurse Nokes, to act young Ammon tries, | The ancient words the majesty complete, With shambling legs, long cbin, and foolish eyes; And make the poem venerably great : With dangling hands he strokes th’imperial robe; So when the queen in royal habit's drest, And, with a cuckold's air, commands the globe; Old mystic emblems grace th' imperial vest, The pomp and sound the whole buffoon display'd, And in Eliza's robes all Anna stands contest. And Ammon's son more mirth than Gomez made. A hanghty bard, to fame by volumes rais'd
Forgive, dear shade, the scene my folly draws, At Dick's, and Batson's, and through Smithfield, Thy strains divert the grief thy ashes cause;
prais'd, When Orpheus sings, the ghosts no more complain, Cries out aloud-—“ Bold Oxford bard, forbear But, in his lulling music, lose their pain:
With rugged numbers to torment my ear; So charm the sallies of thy Georgic Muse,
Yet not like thee the heavy critic soars, So calm our sorrows, and our joys infuse;
But paints in fustian, or in turn deplores; Here rural notes a gentle mirth inspire,
With Bunyan's style prophanes heroic songs, Here lofty lines the kindling reader fire,
To the tenth page lean homilies prolongs; Like that fair tree you praise, the poem charms, For far-fetch'd rhymes makes puzzled angels strain, Cools like the fruit, or like the juice it warms. And in low prose dull Luciter complain;
Blest clime, which Vaga's fruitful streams im- His envions Muse, by native dulness curst, Etruria's envy, and her Cosmo's love; (prove, | Damns the best poems, and contrives the worst. Redstreak he quaffs beneath the Chiant vine, Beyond his praise or blame thy works prerail Gives Tuscan yearly for thy Scudmore's wine, Complete, where Dryden and thy Milton fail; And ev'n his lasso would exchange for thine. Great Milton's wing on lower themes subsides, . Rise, rise, Roscommon, see the Blenheim Muse And Dryden oft in rhyme his weakness hides; The dull constraint of monkish rhyme refuse; You ne'er with jingling words deceive the ear, See, o'er the Alps his towering pinions soar,
And yet, on humble subjects, great appear. Where uerer English poet reach'd before: Thrice happy youth, whom poble Isis crowns ! See mighty Cosmo's counsellor and friend, Whom Blackmore censures, and Godolphin owns: By turns on Cogino and the bard attend;
So on the tuneful Margarita's tongue Ricb in the coins and busts of ancient Rome, The listening nymphs and ravish'd heroes hung: In him he brings a nobler treasure home;
But cts and fops the heaven-born music blame, In them he views her gods, and domes design'd, And bawl, and hiss, and damn her into fame; In him the soul of Rome,and Virgil's mighty mind: Like her sweet voice, is thy harmonious song, To him for ease retires from toils of state,
As bigh, as sweet, as easy, and as strong. Not half so proud to govern, as translate.
Oh! had relenting Heaven prolong'd his days, Our Spenser, first by Pisan poets taught, The towering bard had sung in nobler lays, To us their tales, their style, and numbers brought. How the last trumpet wakes the lazy dead, To follow ours, now Tuscan bards descend, How saints aloft the cross triumphant spread; From Philips borrow, though to Spenser lend, How opening Heavens their happy regions show; Like Philips too the yoke of rhyme disdain ; And yawning gulphs with flaming vengeance glow; They first on English baris impos'd the chain, And saints rejoice above, and sinners howl below: First by an Engliob bard from rhyme their free. Well might he sing the day he could not fear, dom gaio,
And paint the glories he was sure to wear,
Oh best of friends, will ne'er the silent urn Thee, Philips, thee despairing Vaga mourns, To our just vows the hapless youth return? And gentle isis soft complaints returns; Must he no more divert the tedious day?
Dormer laments ainidst the war's alarms, Nor sparkling thoughts in antique words convey? And Cecil weeps in beauteous Tufton's arms: No more to harmless irony descend,
Thee, on the Po, kind Somerset deplores, To noisy fools a grave attention lend,
And ev'n that charming scene his grief restores : Nor merry tales with learn'd quotations blend ? He to thy loss each mournful air applies, No more in false pathetic phrase complain Mindful of thee on huge Taburnus lies, Of Delia's wit, her charms, and her disdain ? But most at Virgil's tomb his swelling sorrows rise. Who now shall godlike Anna's fame diffuse? But you, his darling friends, lament no more, Must she, when most she merits, want a Muse ? Display his fame, and not his fate deplore; Who now our Twysden's glorious fate shall tell; And let no tears from erring pity flow, How lov'd he liv'd, and how deplord he fell? For one that's blest above, immortaliz'd below. How, while the troubled elements around, Earth, water, air, the stunning din resound; Through streams of smoke, and adverse fire, he
(rides, While every shot is levell’d at his sides?
CHARLETTUS PERCIVALLO SUO. How, while the fainting Dutch remotely fire, Hora dum nondum sonuit secunda, And the fam'd Eugene's iron troops retire,
Nec puer nigras tepefecit undas, In the first front, amidst a slaughter'd pile,
Acer ad notos calamus labores High on the mound he dy'd near great Argyle.
Sponte recurrit. Whom shall I find unbiass'd in dispute,
Quid priùs nostris potiúsve chartis Lager to learn, unwilling to confute!
Illinam? Cuinam vigil ante noctem To whom the labours of my soul disclose,
Sole depulsam redeunte Scriptor Reveal my pleasure, or discharge my vows !
Mitto salutem ? Oh! in that heavenly youth for ever ends
Tu meis chartis, bone Percivalle, 'The best of sons, of brothers, and of friends.
Unicè dignus; tibi pectus implet He sacred Friendship's strictest laws obey'd, Non minor nostro novitatis ardor; Yet more by Conscience than by Friendship sway'd;
Tu quoque Scriptor.
Detulit rumor (mihi multa defert
pune stetisse. Candid to all, but to himself severe, [admir'd: Saucius num vivit adhuc Caballus In humour pliant, as in life austere.
Anne? lerneis potiora Gazis, A wise content his even soul secur'd,
An, tua vitâ Tibi chariora,
PERCIVALLUS CHARLETTO SUO.
Qualis ambabus capiendus ulnis Warm Pindar's rage, and Euclid's reason join'd. Limen attingit tibi gratus hospes Judicious physie's noble art to gain
Quum sacras primum subit aut relinquit
Obvios fures, uti fama verax
Like the rich fruit he sings, delicious in decay? Sed fui, sumque, excipias timorem,
Once on thy friends look down, lamented Scire si sylvam cupias pericli shade,
Consciam, et tristes nemoris tenebras, And view the honours to thy ashes paid;
Consulas lentè tabulas parantem Some thy lov'd dust in Parian stones enshrine,
Te duce Colum.
Flebilis legi miseranda docti
Seribe Securus, quid agit Senatus
Adhuc stetisset, nec vibrato Quid Caput stertit grave Lambethanum,
Dextra Dei tonuisset igne. Quid Comes Guildford, quid habent novorum Quin nunc requiris tecta virentia Dawksque Dyerque.
Nini ferocis, nunc Babel arduum, Me meus, quondam tuus, è popinis
Immane opus, crescentibúsque Jenny jam visit, lacrimansque narrat,
Vertice sideribus propinquum,
Nequicquam : Amici disparibus sonis
Eludit aures nescius artifex,
Linguasque miratur recentes Hospitem notæ periisse Mitre;
In patriis peregrinus oris.
Vestitur hinc tot sermo coloribus,
Quot tu, Pococki, dissimilis tui
Orator effers, quot vicissim Nuncius Pricket redit, avocat me
Te memores celebrare gaudent.
Hi non tacebunt quo Syriam senex
Percurrit æstu raptus, ut arcibus
Non jam superbis, & verendis Fulciet? munus ve tulæ parentis,
Indoluit Solimæ ruinis.
Quis corda pulsans tunc pavor hauserat
Dolor quis arsit non sine gaudio,
Cum busta Christi provolutus Pricketi plantas, simùl ambulanti
Ambiguis lacrymis rigaret!
Sacratur arbos multa Pocockio,
Locósque monstrans inquiet accola.
Hæc quercus Hoseam supinum, Priinus, ante omnes mihi gratulandus,
Hæc Britonem recreavit ornus.
Hîc audierunt gens venerabilem
Ebræa Mosen, inde Pocockium
Non ore, non annis minorem, Lesbie vatis numeros secutus;
Atque suam didicere linguam.
Ac sicut albens perpetuâ nive
Simul favillas, & cineres sinu
Eructat ardenti, & pruinis
Contiguas rotat Ætna flammas; Multa qui de te memorant culullos
Sic te trementem, te nive candidum later, & palli, vice literarum,
Mens intus urget, mens agit ignea
Sequi reluctantem loëlem
Per tonitru, aëreásque nubes
Ciet Sionem, dum tremulum polo
Caligat astrum, atque incubanti
Terra nigrans tegitur sub umbrâ ?
Quod agmen! heu quæ turma sequacibus Meum Pococki barbiton exigis,
Tremenda flammis ! quis strepitantium Manésque Musam fastuosam
Flictus rotarum est! O Pucocki Sollicitant pretiosiores.
Egregie, O animose Vatis Alter virentum prorurat agmina
Interpres abstrusi, O simili ferè Sonora Tbracum, donáque Phillidi
Correpte flammâ, te, quot imagine Agat puellas, heu decoris
Crucis notantur, te, subacto Virginibus nimis invidenti,
Christicolæ gravis Ottomannus Te nuda Virtus, te Fidei pius
Gemens requirit, te Babylonii Ardor serendæ, sanctaque Veritas
Narrant poëtæ, te pharetris Arabs Per saxa, per pontum, per hostes
Plorat revulsis, & fragosos Præcipitant Asiæ misertum :
Jam gravior ferit horror agros. Cohors catenis quà pia stridulis
Quà Gesta nondum cognita Cæsaris, Gemunt onusti, vel sude trans sinum
Quì nec Matronis scripta, Pocockius Luctantur actâ, pendulíve
Ploratur ingens, & dolenda
Nestores brevitas senectæ.
FOR THE YEAR 1705.
Janus, did ever to thy wondering eyes, Moles Gomorrhæ mox procella
So bright a scene of triumph rise ? Hausta rubra, pluviísque flammis:
Did ever Greece or Rome such laurels wear, Quòd ista tellus si similes tibi
As crown'd the last auspicious year? Si fortè denos nutrierat Viros,
When first at Blenheim Anne her eosigns spread
And Marlborough to the field the sbouting squa4 Sec Dr. Johnson's Life of Smith,
In vain the hills and streams oppose,
Great George revives to calm our fears, In vain the hollow ground in faitbless hillocks rose, With prospect of more glorious years: To the rough Danube's winding shore,
Deriv'd from Anne's auspicious smiles, His shatter'd foes the conquering hero bore.
More cheerful airs refresh the British isles. They see with staring haggard eyes
Sound the trumpet; beat the drum : The rapid torrent roll, the foaming billows rise; Tremble France; we come, we come! Amaz'd, aghast, they turn, but find,
Almighty force our courage warms; In Marlborough's arms, a surer fate behind. We feel the full, the powerful charms Now his red sword aloft impends,
Of Ormond's glory, and of Marlborough's arms ! Now on their shrinking heads descends : ' Wild and distracted with their fears, They justling plunge amidst the sounding deeps: The food away the struggling squadrons sweeps, ODE IN PRAISE OF MUSIC. And men, and arms, and horses, whirling bears, The frighted Danube to the sea retreats,
COMPOSED BY MR. CHARLES KING. The Danube soon the flying ocean meets,
In Five Parts. Flying the thunder of great Anua's fleets.
For the degree of batchelor of music; perRooke on the seas asserts her sway,
formed at the Theatre in Oxford, on Friday Flames o'er the trembling ocean play,
the eleventh of July, 1707. And clouds of smoke involve the day. Affrighted Europe bears the cannons roar,
Music, soft charm of Heaven and Earth, And Afric echoes from its distant shore,
Whence didst thou borrow thy'auspicious birth? The French, unequal in the fight,
Or art thou of eternal date? In force superior, take their fight.
Sire to thyself, thyself as old as Fate, Factions in vain the hero's worth decry,
Ere the rude ponderous mass In vain the vanquish'd triumph, while they fly.
Of earth and waters from their chaos sprang Now, Janus, with a future view,
The morning stars their anthems sang, love, The glories of her reign survey,
And nought in Heaven was heard but melody and Which shall o'er France her arms display,
Myriads of spirits, forms divine, And kingiloms now her own subdue.
The seraphin, with the bright host Lewis, for oppression born;
Of angels, thrones, and heavenly powers, Lewis, in his turn, shall mourn,
Worship before th' eternal shrine; While his conquer'd happy swains,
Their happy privilege in hymns and anthems boast, Shall hug their easy wish'd-for chains.
In love and wonder pass their blissful hours. Others, enslar'd by victory,
Nor let the lower worid repine Their subjects, as their foes, oppress;
The massy orb in which we sluggards more Anna conquers but to free,
As if sequester'd from the arts divine:
Here's music too,
CHORUS, FIVE VOICES.
Hark how the feather'd choir their mattin's chant,
And purling streams sost accents vent, Ormond's glory, Marlborough's arms,
And all both time and measure know. All the mouths of Fame employ;
Ere since the Theban bard, to prove And th’applauding world around
The wondrous magic of his art, Echoes back the pleasing sound:
Taught trees and forests how to move, Their courage warms;
All Nature has a general concert held, Their conduct charms;
Each creature strives to bear a part; Yet the universal joy
And all but Death and Hell to conquering music Feels a sensible alloy !
But stay, I hear methinks a motley crew, Mighty George 6, the senate's care,
A peevish, odd, eccentric race, 'The people's love, great Anna's prayer !
The glory of the art debase; While the stroke of Fate we dread
Perhaps because the sacred emblem 'tis Impending o'er thy sacred head,
Of truth, of peace, and order too; The British youth for thee submit to fear,
So dangerous 'lis to be perversely wise. For ber the dames in cloudy grief appear!
But be they ever in the wrong, [song! Let the noise of war and joy
Who say the prophet's harp e'er spoil'd the poet's Rend again the treinbling sky;
GRAND CHORUS, FIVE PARTS, s This Ode and that which follows it were To Athens now, my Muse, retire, published anonymously at the time when they | The refuge and the theatre of Wit; were written, and are now ascribed to Mr. Smith And in that safe and sweet retreat on the authority of a note in MS. by one of his Amongst Apollo's sons inquire, contemporaries. See the Select Collection of And see if any friend of thine be there : Miscellany Poems, 1780. Vol. IV. p. 62. N. But sure so near the Thespian spring 6 George prince of Denmark, husband to the The humblest bard may sit and sing:
Here rest my Muse, and dwell for ever here.